Show You How It Go Lyrics

(feat. Z-Ro, Cl'Che, Mr. 3-2, 2)

[talking]
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, it's hot than a bitch
Now that we done got rich
I'm fin to throw a home run pitch, know I'm tal'n bout

[Hook]
When I slam candy do's, (I'ma show you how it go)
When I push a wide load, (I'ma show you how it go)
When I pull bad hoes, (I'ma show you how it go)
Piece and chain to the flo', (I'ma show you how it go)
When I crawl in a drop, (I'ma show you how it go)
Make a bumper unlock, (I'ma show you how it go)
Make a hating nigga stop, (I'ma show you how it go)
Ha, (I'ma show you how it go)

[Trae]
I'll forever be the nigga, crawling down so thoed
In a wide body tipping, and tossing on 84's
With my 18's shaking and rocking, in slow-mo
With my roll dogs, spitting and fucking with your hoe
In the late night, we block skaters and raiders
And yellow bone penetrators, with more do' than a vega
Better pray for the haters, I'm unknown like Jaga
And for the common denominator, a microphone breaker
Bone hard, rolling the Boulevard
A nigga be talking down, the nigga be getting scarred
Piece and chain to the flo', with a thoed Roy Jones
Ten thousand in my mouth, diamonds all in my earlobe
We ain't broke no mo', nigga we looking good
Representing for my hood, wish a motherfucker would
And would try to talk down, when I'm stepping in the do'
And if you ain't know, then I'ma show you how it go fa sho

[Cl'Che]
S-L-A-B, M double A-B
C-L-C-H-E, we hot in this industry
We mobbing and balling, Cl'Che gon show you how it go
And if you hoes wanna hate, you can answer out the do'
Still dropping these flows, still sexy and petite
Still gangsta bitch, with an attitude from the streets
See a rocking show from Mello, C. Ward and Guerilla Maab
Still hanging on Hollywood Boulevard
With my West Coast rider Ms. Toi, we flashing them boys
Showing 'em how it go, and how a bitch can go hard
From this Dirty 3rd, but you ain't heard
But I bet you hear of me now, cause S.L.A.B. is the word
Underground for my real niggaz, and real chicks
That wanna listen to some raw shit
Cause that's how it go, when you stumble up on a masterpiece
You can't help but feel a bitch, like me Cl'Che

[Lil B]
I'ma show you how it go, down here in H-Town
Young slim ass nigga, that'll let my top down
Still swang the 'Vard, it don't stop
Heater on cock, bout to pull your bop ha
Body rocking and shocking it, like this
20 years old, with plenty rocks up on my wrist
Sunkist up in my cup, plenty purple stuff
With the Rob and Chris G, slip and sliding on buck
All hoes getting fucked, on the late night
Nigga feeling freaky, so you better lay right
Tie your shoes tight, but take 'em off in the bed
For a Hiram-Clarke nigga, that's known to turn heads
Never been scared, to beam infrared
On a hater that's talking down on the click, he's dead
Never been afraid, but I never been a punk
So you niggaz best believe, Lil B gon make you jump
12 gauge pump, letting off a shotty
South Klique guerillas for real, we bout it bout it
Know to get bout it, when you step out of line
I'm a killer for scrilla, with drug dealers on the grind
I'ma touch down, on the Grapevine
With that nigga Lil D, and that Tip-Toe gon shine
Bump and grind, with a thoed sugar brown
I be cocking her leg back, running all in her spine

[Hook]

[2]
I'ma show you how it goes, down here we roll 4's
Bumper kit screens lit, with pop trunks that glow
Playa fa sho, this is how it goes down
Screwed up, so you know we slowed down
When niggaz plex, you know we throw down
Like the wild wild West, a motherfucking show down
Whoa now, I think your heart's beating too fast
Better calm your nerves, 'fore I put some heat in that ass
With cocked glocks, underneath the seat and the dash
In the drop top, red beam be in the Jag
I pop collars, and baby I look good in a slab
Like a rotweiler nigga, in the hood when I'm mad

[Dougie D]
When I pull up sitting down, low up on drop
Bitches bopping and watch, as the trunk is on knock
You wanna pull a bad hoe, it really ain't nothing to it
Like the Nike, Dougie gon show you just straight up how to do it
Keep my gleam on glow, piece and chain to the flo'
Every record I drop, from now on is going gold
When I ride the track
I'm huffing and puffing, and blowing out the sack
We keeping it crunk in here, from the front to back
We S-L-A-B and we represent for that, and we smash for cash
So throwed with it huh, you never did figure
That we could roll with it huh, we keep this bitch wired up

[Z-Ro]
I'm in the turning lane, bringing pain simple and plain
Screens rain on top of thangs, surrounded by wood grain
Leaving a permanent stain, on your mind
Our people coming up, and now you jackers going down
H-Town the city, no pity is being shown
Like Frank Nitty I'm nifty with a Tre 5-7, so bring it on
Domes are in danger, got one in the chamber
When my bitch get wild, my trigga finger can tame her
I can't name a nigga, that done took my nuts
Get out of line if you wanna, nothing but hooks and upper cuts
To your jaw, the end won't be low in a Bentley
Only real estate and property, we living rent-free
On top of our game, on top of our change (like that)
Touching niggaz from eighty feet, I got that aim (like that)
With blood rushing out a stab wound, that's how I flow
Try to check me get a sonic boom, that's how it go

[Mr. 3-2]
Hot, gliding on a mill I made
Glocks, full lit another life I take
My spot, ain't nothing bout that fake
I got, a lot of bitches I'm gon break
I shot, this nigga for being a cake
I'm hot, just like the dice I shake
Think not, bitch I got money to take
While wait, how many jaws I break
Big break, I'ma make that real fast
Put my foot up on the gas, and I'm ready to mash
Haul ass now hoe, I'm ready to go
Get some six from the sto', po'ing up me a 4

[Hook]